


Put Your Money Where Your Mouth Is

by carpelucem



Series: Tumblr Fills [3]
Category: Pacific Rim (2013)
Genre: Accidental Marriage, Las Vegas Wedding, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-04-01
Updated: 2014-04-01
Packaged: 2018-01-17 19:05:03
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,562
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1399078
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/carpelucem/pseuds/carpelucem
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>It starts with shots and ends with rings. (Herc and Raleigh wake up married)</p>
            </blockquote>





	Put Your Money Where Your Mouth Is

The eight of them don’t even make it out of the airport before Herc buys them all shots. “When in Vegas, kids.”

It’s not even respectable liquor, the drinks are sticky-sweet and turquoise, crowned with whipped cream. Whipped. Cream.

Raleigh knows it’s going to be a long weekend, especially when Chuck starts in at baggage claim about needing one of those half-yard tubes of boozey slush. (Raleigh blames the lack of proper food and the unknown combination of booze for the way he wants to curl up, nod off in the van driving them to the hotel. Raleigh needs to pace himself - or at least get some carbs in his stomach - if he plans on surviving the first night, much less four days with this lot.)

Yancy’s allotted them all thirty minutes to shower and get ready before meeting in the lobby bar for pre-game drinks. One they’ve all gathered, cocktails in hand, Yancy lays out the game plan. They’re hitting the buffet, more drinks at the Irish pub in New York New York, one of the Cirque shows, then table service on the roof deck at the Palms. Tomorrow, it’s brunch, lying by the pool before they start gambling, then dinner at one of the big steakhouses - Raleigh doesn’t catch which one, maybe he’s past the point of caring. Friday morning, Mako flies in with Stacker, the rehearsal’s that night and Saturday’s the wedding, so they have to get their partying in ahead of time.

He should be excited, but there’s so much going on, Raleigh’s just not looking forward to any of it.

Herc slides in next to Raleigh, gives him a slightly pained smile. “Gotta thank you, you’re making me look better by the minute.”

Raleigh takes a small sip of his drink - scotch on the rocks, a proper beverage for a grown-ass adult - and wipes the corner of his mouth. “How do you figure?”

Herc leans in close so Raleigh can hear him under the raucous fuss of their companions. “Thought I was just old, but you look more beat than me.”

"I haven’t been sleeping well," he shrugs, takes another drink. "Doesn’t look like I’m going to be getting much here, either."

Herc’s smile is edged with something challenging. “Think that’s the point of Las Vegas, Rals.” He clinks their glasses together. “Besides, we’re celebrating. Cheer up - it’s a wedding, not the end of the world.” He drains his drink and Raleigh follows his lead. “Remember, this is supposed to be fun for you.”

Tendo comes over with shots, and, thankfully, a basket of mozzarella sticks. Raleigh catches Herc’s eye, salutes him before downing it, tabling the empty glass with a smile.

—

Raleigh feels like he’s been hit by a truck, his head is throbbing, and his mouth feels like it’s filled with sand. The room’s entirely too bright, morning sunlight streaming through the curtains he forgot to draw the night before. He winces in pain when he tries to stand up, trying to decide if it’s worth it to crawl to the bathroom for water. His watch reads 10.30 and Raleigh groans, knows Chuck will be knocking before long, coming to collect him for breakfast.

"Ughh, ‘m never drinking again."

At the gravelly admission, Raleigh almost jumps out of his skin. He turns, as slowly as possible, and his eyes nearly bug out of his head when he sees the familiar expanse of Herc’s back, marred with red scratches and little purpling bruises across his shoulders, in his bed, pillow clutched to his face, muttering some very creative curses beneath the down filling.

"Shit, you get locked out of your own room last night?"

Herc just shoots his arm back, flipping his middle finger up. Which, ok, it’s well known Herc’s not a morning person, but that reaction may be a touch extreme, because Raleigh is hungover as shit, too.

Except - no. It’s not possible.

Raleigh looks down at where his own fingers are clenched in the sheets and yeah. Yeah, shit, he’s not imagining that.

Silver bands are wrapped around both their ring fingers and Raleigh’s stomach drops to the floor.

Normally he’d fear Herc’s wrath, but he reaches over anyway, tugs the pillow away. Herc rolls, squints, nails him with the most furious look he can muster, naked (at least from what Raleigh can see, and his chest is just as marked up as his back, shit) and slightly grey.

"What the FUCK, Becket? Jesus, my brain’s pounding outta my skull, give me ten fucking minutes."

Raleigh just grabs Herc’s hand, wraps it with his own. “Herc? What the fuck happened last night?”

And his eyes widen, darting from their clasped hands to Raleigh’s face and back. “Shit.”

"Shit’s right, we’re fucking dead if what I think happened here actually - happened." And Raleigh’s squeezing his eyes shut, and the only thought in his head, thick and loud is ‘ _Mako’s gonna kill me_.’

Raleigh realizes he’s said that out loud when Herc just shakes his head minutely, probably as far as he can go without feeling like it’ll explode. “Be more worried about Stacker, kid. He’s been planning this for years.”

There’s a knock at the door, and Raleigh’s of half a mind to just dart off to the bathroom as fast as his aching body will carry him and hide for the next three days.

"Hold on." Raleigh fumbles for his clothes, finds a tshirt shoved down under the sheets at the foot of the bed, his boxers crumpled under his pillow. He winces a little standing up, his body tender all over. Raleigh turns back to Herc in horror. "What did we DO last night?"

There’s another knock and Herc shouts this time. “Coming, calm the fuck down!”

Raleigh picks his way across the minefield of his hotel room, clothes strewn about like the wake path of a tornado. Bits and pieces of the night before start to slot together and he remembers what happened before coming back.

Unlatching the door, Chuck bounds in, sunglasses pushed on top of his head. He’s halfway across the room when he registers the destruction.

"Jeez Rals, the fuck did you two do last night?"

Raleigh sinks onto the couch. “The two of us?”

"You and Dad. We hit the floor of New York New York and you two disappeared. Tried to call, but Yance said to let it go, you were probably just freaking out. We had to sit through Love - which YOU wanted to see, Becket, without you."

Herc walks out of the bedroom, sheet wrapped around his hips, moving with far more grace than Raleigh can even start to muster. “Morning, kid.”

Chuck just whistles under his breath. “Have a good night , old man?”

"Yeah, sure did." He’s buttoning his shirt, and Raleigh can feel the heat of his gaze locked on him, even after Raleigh drops his head into his palms.

Chuck emits something close to a shriek and grabs for Raleigh’s hand. “Holy hell - no.” Raleigh looks up and Chuck’s eyes are volleying from Raleigh to his father and back again. “You two assholes got married last night. Goddamn, Mako’s gonna kill you, Becket.”

And there it is. Herc, dressed now, closes the short distance between them, pulls Raleigh free from Chuck’s grasp. He links the fingers of their left hand together again, where the matching silver bands wink up at them.

He looks at Raleigh, shrugs one shoulder. “She’ll understand.” His eyes hold an unmistakably smitten satisfaction and Raleigh feels the knot of pressure under his ribs unravel. He finally lets out a breath he didn’t know he was holding.

"Yeah. Mako gets it." Raleigh leans forward, kisses Herc softly. He sees the county registrar’s office and the quiet chapel off the strip when he closes his eyes, just the two of them, giddy and laughing. It’s how it should be.

Chuck’s already on his phone, undoubtedly texting the Weis and Yancy and Tendo. He just shakes his head in disbelief. “You both really couldn’t wait until Saturday? You paid for everything already. Dad, just put the rest of your stuff in here, that whole not seeing each other before the wedding thing, it doesn’t matter now.” His phone beeps and there’s a hint of evil glee in Chuck’s voice as he reads the message. “Mako says to tell you you’re buying her a new maid of honor dress - and she wrote expensive in all caps. With about nine dollar signs for the s.”

"Here we go," Herc mutters.

"And Stacker’s not happy either, old man." Chuck smirks at his father. "Better go for the good scotch Friday night."

"Worth it," Raleigh says under his breath. Herc smiles just for him, rubs his thumb over Raleigh’s knuckles.

"Still gonna marry you Saturday, Rals. I want to see you walk down that aisle to me." 

Chuck makes a noise of strangled disgust and claps them on the shoulders, offers them both his congratulations before escaping.

When the door shuts, Raleigh tugs Herc to the bathroom and undresses him, pushes him in the giant shower. His head’s still pounding and he needs caffeine and something really greasy for breakfast, but Raleigh’s looking forward to the rest of the weekend. Hell, kissing his husband under the spray, thumbing over the ring on Herc’s finger, Raleigh’s looking forward to the rest of his _life_.


End file.
